A Town Called Tardis
by BloodLily16
Summary: Join Clara Oswald as she moves to the sleepy town of Tardis, just outside the city of Gallifrey. But is it really sleepy? Read to find out! Inspired in part by Zelda12343's A Small Town Called Enterprise and BuzzCat's Gallifreyan Dentistry. Rating may change. Read and Review! :)
1. Clara

The house was much too imposing for its size. As Clara stared up at it, the house seemed to glower at her, sneering at the short woman and her boxes of belongings.

Taking a deep breath, Clara unlocked the door and began pulling the boxes into the house. Some of the boxes were heavy, but with the help of a dolly and a good amount of muttering, they were deposited in the living room.

Taking a deep breath, Clara scooted the couch into the middle of the room, then laid down, completely exhausted.

As she was about to slip into a coma, she was startled awake by the sounds of an argument behind the house.

"Well at least I'm not a Kung-Fu dandy!"

"It's aikido, you ignorant clown!"

"Why can't you leave me in peace?"

"Why can't you stop screeching away on that overrated whistle of yours?"

"It's a recorder, and it's not my fault if you can't appreciate the finer qualities of it."

"It's keeping me from appreciating the finer qualities of anything!"

"Will the both of you shut up!?" Asked a new voice. "Dear me, is it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet around here?"

"Well, he started it!"

"Did not! You started it!"

"I wasn't the one screeching away on my recorder!"

"So this is why the house was so cheap." Muttered Clara, getting up and stomping into the backyard.

The main arguers, a taller, white haired man dressed far too nicely for just gardening and a shorter, dark-haired man in baggy clothes were glaring and squabbling over the fence. An old man, about the same height as the dark-haired one, yelled at the both of them, and a dark haired girl in the same yard as the old man looked like she'd like nothing more than to sob and bang her head against a brick wall.

"Oi!" Shouted Clara, drawing the attention of everyone involved. "You two! Stop flirting!" She pointed at the main arguers, and they sputtered indignantly, before sulkily going into their houses, slamming the doors shut.

The old man snickered and the girl covered her mouth with her hands. Clara was unable to tell whether from mortification, or hidden laughter.

"Well, you must be the new owner of the house, hm?" Asked the old man. "I suppose you found out why the last person moved. Those two are such a nuisance!"

"It's strange really." Said the girl. "They're actually quite similar, but they just can't get along!"

"Well, my child," said the old man, leaning over the fence and peering at her, "what's your name, hm?"

"Clara Oswald." Said Clara, smiling and holding out her hand. "And you are?"

"I'm Susan Foreman." Said the young girl, shaking the hand, "and this is my Grandfather, William."

"Oh!" Said Clara, "well, I-" Clara was interrupted by the slamming of a car door out in front of her house.

"Hello?" Asked a voice.

"In the back!" Shouted Clara.

"Er," said a police man, walking into the backyard, "Christopher called and said that Jon and Patrick were at it again."

"They were." Sighed Susan. "But Ms. Oswald-"

"Clara." Said Clara. "Call me Clara, please."

"She stopped them fighting..." Said Susan, then giggled, "like an old, married couple..." She continued laughing, much to the mustache'd officer's confusion.

"William, what-"

"Oh, it's none of your concern, Chief Lethbridge-Stewart." Said William. "She stopped them fighting, and I daresay that they won't be squabbling for a while, hm?" With that, the old man stepped down from whatever he was using to boost himself up and reportedly walked inside the house, the door slamming shut.

"You must be the new resident." Said Chief Lethbridge-Stewart. "I'm the chief of police around here, and I trust you won't try anything?"

"Other than my hand at soufflés, no." Said Clara, grinning. The Chief nodded, then left out the gate.

"He seems a bit uptight." Said Clara.

"He is a bit." Agreed Susan. "But he's really nice. And..." Susan looked around and leaned in towards Clara, who moved closer to the teenager, "I think he's sweet on Principal Shaw."

Clara raised her eyebrows and looked at Susan, who smiled.

"Really?" Asked Clara. "Well, I must say, a principal sounds like his type."

"Susan!" Called William. "Come in now, my child! You've that report for Ms. Wright, and the papers for Mr. Chesserson!"

"It's Mr. Chesterton!" Said Susan over her shoulder, smiling as she turned back to Clara. "Goodbye!" She said, jumping down from her stand.

"Goodbye!" Said Clara, smiling as she walked back into her house, resolving to start unpacking, and semi-rested and in much better spirits, it went by reasonably well.

"Well." Clara muttered to herself, hands on her hips as she stared at the house, the different rooms reasonably furnished. "I think that's enough for one day. More than enough, really." She added, glancing at the clock and rubbing her sore arms.

It was past Clara's bedtime, so after heating up a microwave dinner, she retired to her newly-made bed. She felt as though her head'd barely touched the pillows when her alarm went off.

Groggily smacking it into submission, she turned over and spent the next ten minutes psyching herself to throw off the covers and shower. The hot water felt good, and she dilly-dallied in the bathroom, before resignedly shutting off the tap and toweling off. After she dressed in a airy blouse and slacks, she retired to the living room with the classifieds and a cup of tea.

After she'd narrowed the jobs down to a travel agent, (No experience required, people person a plus!), a nanny, (Kids well-behaved, good pay!), and a barmaid, (Reasonable hours, good chance to meet new people.), there came a knock on the door. Clara opened it to find a tall man with floppy hair and a bow-tie, and a shorter woman with curly blond hair and a flirtatious smile. The woman was carrying a basket filled with tea, coupons, and a bag of Jammy Dodgers.

"Hello!" Said the man, who desperately needed to lay off the coffee. "We're your neighbors! We've brought a gift basket, and it's got Jammy Dodgers!" He wildly gestured to the basket, much to Clara's amusement.

"Sweetie." Said the woman, grabbing his shoulder, then shaking Clara's hand, handing her the basket. "Hello." She said. "I'm River Song, and this is my husband, Matt."

"Hello." Said Clara, smiling as she put the basket on a side table. "I'm Clara."

"Aren't you the one that stopped Jon and Patrick from fighting yesterday?" Asked Matt, looking longingly at he Jammy Dodgers.

"Yes." Said Clara, grabbing the bag and handing him a cookie, which he started eating on ecstatically.

"You actually told them to 'stop flirting'?" He asked through the Dodger, causing River to smack him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Yeah." Said Clara. "It's a trick I used when I babysat for a family friend. Angie and Artie were always onto each other, but that helped... For a time." She grimaced.

"They do bicker like children, don't they?" River asked sympathetically. "They're the reason the house has gone empty so long. No-one wants to have to listen to a pair of middle-aged men bicker at odd hours of the day... And night." There was an awkward silence as Matt and River reflected back on the aforementioned night. "...But from Patrick's complaining, they shouldn't be at it for a while." River said, smiling. "He comes over every once in a while, mostly to vent over a cup of tea."

"Hm." Said Clara. "Di you know if there are there any jobs available?"

"Ooh, Jack has an opening at his bar!" Said Matt. "He's a flirt, but really nice!"

"Thanks." Said Clara. "If that's all..."

"Bye!" Said Matt. "Come over sometime! We live over there!" He pointed across the street, at a house with an old blue police box in the front.

"The house with the snog box?" Asked Clara.

"How'd you know?" Asked Matt, a confused expression on his face.

"What?" Asked Clara.

"That it's called the snog box?" Asked Matt.

"What?" Asked Clara.

"Goodness, you sound like Dave!" Exclaimed River. "It's known as the Tardis Snog Box, because most of the kids have snuck in and used it to snog. It's a bit of a nuisance, one time I came out to put out the cat, and happened across Luke and Maria snogging. I'm not sure who was the most surprised!" She chuckled and tugged on Matt's arm. "Bye now." She said, tugging her husband to their house.

"Bye!" Said Clara, shutting the door and taking a deep breath.

"Jack's pub, eh?" She mused.

* * *

**BloodLily: 'Ello! **

**Unicorn Plushie: You shouldn't be starting up any new stories, with the twenty you already have up.**

**BloodLily: See this face? This face belongs to a person that does not care. :)**

**Unicorn Plushie: TT Whatevs. BloodLily would like to say that she does not own Doctor Who. If she did, there would be more angst-**

**BloodLily: Don't. Start. That. Again.**

**Unicorn Pushie: I will if you don't apologize for calling me a Pillow Pet!**

**BloodLily: You are a Pillow Pet.**

**Unicorn Plushie: Are not!**

**BloodLily: *undoes strap and Unicorn Plushie transforms into Unicorn Pillow* Case in point.**

**Unicorn Pillow: TT I hate you.**

**BloodLily: No you don't! :)**


	2. The Rose and Crown

"Excuse me." Said Clara, approaching a tall man with huge ears and a crew cut, "do you happen to know where I could find the Rose and Crown?" He turned around and smiled at her.

"It's right around the corner." He said with a northern accent. "You can see the sign from here." He pointed to an old-style wooden sign with the faded image of a rose and a crown.

"Thanks." Said Clara.

"Are you the one who stopped Patrick and Jon arguing the other day?" He asked.

"Yes." Clara smiled exasperatedly. "And who are you?"

"Christopher North." He said, smiling. "Goes with the accent. Everyone calls me Chris, though." He held out a hand, and Clara took it. Chris's grip was hard and strong, yet he held her hand gently.

"Thanks." Said Clara. "I'm seeing about the job."

"Good luck, then." Said Chris jovially.

Clara smiled and waved as she went over to the Rose and Crown.

"Hello?" Asked Clara, walking in through the doors of the small pub. "Is anyone there?"

A head popped out from behind the bar, belonging to a rather handsome man, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a blinding smile. Clara noted that he was wearing a replica of a World War II Air Force jacket, which looked good on him. Then again, most everything would look good on him.

"I'm Jack Harkness, and who are you?" He asked in an American accent, flashing her the smile. Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just use your name as a pick-up line?" She asked.

"Yup." He said, hopping up and rounding the bar and tables. "You here for the job, or to provide more intervention between Jon and Patrick?"

"Does everyone know about that?" Asked Clara, blushing.

"It's a small town." Jack said.

"I'm here for the job." Clara said. "Matt Song recommended it."

"Oh, Matt..." Said Jack. "How's he doing?"

"Good, I think." Said Clara. "They just welcomed me, recommended this place, and told me about the snog box."

"The snog box." Said Jack, smiling at fond memories. "It's not just for kids, you know." He winked at Clara and she rolled her eyes, smacking him on the arm.

"Do you want me to take the job, or do you want to snog me?" She asked.

"Both."

"At least you're honest about it!" Clara chuckled. "I'll take it. When do I start?"

"The pub opens at five," said Jack, flipping a chair off the table, "but I need some help with set-up."

"Alright." Said Clara, flipping a chair down and nearly knocking herself out.

"Easy!" Jack tittered, finishing with his table. "It might be better if you busied yourself with the drinks." He gestured to the bar and Clara moved behind it without a complaint, cleaning out glasses and bringing out bottles.

"What drinks do you know how to mix up?" Asked Jack, continuing to bring down chairs.

"Er..." Said Clara, thinking for a moment. "Nothing, really." She admitted.

"There are a few recipes in the notebook under the bar." Said Jack. "It would probably help if you learned them."

Clara pulled out the booklet and thumbed through it. There weren't very many, and most of them were relatively simple, but a couple looked tough.

"Any friendly tips you want to tell me?" Asked Clara.

"Well," said Jack, wiping the tables down, "no-one will usually get drunk, except for Chris, but he's a special case."

"What do you mean, 'special case'?" Asked Clara.

"He fought overseas." Said Jack. "He was in Afghanistan, and he helped in a huge operation, saved hundreds of lives. But the thing is..." He stopped and stared at Clara, his ever-present smile gone. "Afterwards they sent him home, and he had a party with his family. But there was a fire, and the house burned down. He was the only one who made it out, and he spent a solid month in the ICU, then six months in rehab. Afterwards, he moved out here."

Clara caught her breath.

"But I spoke to him before I came in here." She said. "He looked so happy."

"He tries." Was all Jack said.

"Is everyone around here nice?" Asked Clara. "I mean, so far everyone has been, but I was wondering-"

"Well," said Jack, pulling out a bag of chips, "most people are, yeah, but some others... Well, you've met Bill Foreman, right? He used to be the grumpiest old man this side of the Thames, but after a bit, when Susan started living with him, he started softening up. Kaled Davros missed his calling and time period in my opinion. He'd have made a good Nazi. He lives over by Rodger Masters and Anthony Tremas, who're also real pieces of work. Rumor is that Tremas murdered someone."

"Really?" Clara asked, almost dropping a glass she was using to try one of the recipes. Jack shrugged.

"They could never prove it." He said. "But everybody watches themselves. Harold Saxon spent time for domestic violence, and Mr. Cybus isn't the most stable. Neither are the Weeper Sisters, for that matter. They seem nice, but there are... things that seem off about them. Little things, like how they stare at you, like they're sizing you up for something, or how they appear when you least expect them and you're alone. Just, little things."

At that moment the bell rang on the door. Clara looked at the clock, and sure enough, it was five 'o' clock. The man who entered was a tall, distinguished figure, sporting semi-formal clothes and gray trim in his black beard and hair.

"Hello Mr. Masters." Said Jack in a slightly strained tone of voice. "Will you be having your usual glass of brandy?"

The tall man nodded, then fixed his piercing gaze on Clara, who nervously fixed the brandy and handed it over to Mr. Masters. He nodded slightly at her, then sat down at a table in the corner sipping his brandy while he watched the goings-on.

The next patrons to come in were a dark-skinned woman and a blonde. After Jack had had a good flirt, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a couple of beers, but Clara grabbed them back.

"Maybe you could make the drinks," she suggested, "and I could serve them?" Jack agreed and Clara brought the drinks over to the pair.

"Are you the girl who broke up Jon and Patrick's fight?" Asked the dark-skinned girl, who introduced herself as Martha Jones.

"If I had a pound for every time I was asked that..." Chuckled Clara.

"You'd probably be able to pay off your mortgage by the end of the week." Said Rose Tyler, the blonde, as she took a sip of her beer.

"Here's to that!" Clara said, lightly smacking the table. "All I wanted was a little hush, and now I've got the whole town into a tizzy!"

"It'll die down in a month or so." Said Martha resignedly. "Once everyone's had their curiosity put in check, Tardis will be as sleepy as usual."

"As usual." Rose said bitterly. "There's always something going on. As little as one of Patrick and Jon's squalls, or as big as... Well... You've heard about Mr. Tremas, haven't you?" She asked in a strained voice. Clara nodded. "Gosh, the police were busy for weeks! They even called over a forensics team from Gallifrey! You know, the city south of here." Rose said upon seeing Clara's blank expression.

"Poor Nyssa." Said Martha. "It was her father, you know? Her stepmother too. A double murder, and afterwards she didn't get any rest. The officers from Gallifrey were pretty rough with her, and they almost convicted Mr. Davids for some bizarre reason. He's the English teacher at the school, but he also helps with gym, and the police captain, a man named Maxwell, or something like that, got a bit too carried away and tasered him! But then he was cleared, thank goodness, and they were sure it was Mr. Tremas, but they couldn't find enough evidence. I think-"

The door swung open and Martha froze, eyes bulging out of her skull. Rose hastily took a gulp of her drink and Clara spun around to face two men. The first was shorter, and was generally disfigured by some strange birth defect, or maybe a disease. He squinted at her, lips pursed disapprovingly as he hobbled along beside his friend, who had a cold stare as he peered down at her. He looked quite similar to Mr. Masters, with his goatee and fancy dress, but his hair was a dark brown, and even though he was taller than his companion, he was a good few inches shorter than Masters.

"Um... Hello Mr. Davros... Mr. Tremas." Said Jack from behind the bar, nervously. "What can I get you to drink?"

"We were passing by," rasped the shorter man, "and we couldn't help but notice that someone had taken the job you'd offered." His beady black eyes fixed on Clara. "Would this be the fool?"

"Oi!" Said Clara, glaring down at him. "Watch it, crow-face!"

"Oh?" He said, dryly chuckling. "Crow-face, indeed?" He shrugged indifferently. "I merely wanted to warn you that there are certain... hazards in working closely with the proprietor of this establishment." Rose and Martha stood up abruptly, their chairs almost falling over.

"I'm sick of you going on about this, Davros!" Said Rose, glaring at the deformed man. "You can go now, and take your homophobic rants someplace else!" Martha nodded, folding her arms across her chest.

"Homophobic?" Asked Clara, looking at Jack.

"Yeah." He said, nodding. "I'm bi."

Clara nodded, then turned back to Davros. "Do you have any other complaints, or would you escort your ugly mug out of this establishment?" She asked sweetly.

"You are making a big mistake." Davros said as he glared at her. "I can make your stay in Tardis most unpleasant." Clara leaned into his face.

"Really?" Asked Clara. "Well, I don't really care, so what else are you going to threaten me with?"

A strong hand gripped her arm, squeezing it tightly as the other man, most likely Mr. Tremas, pulled her upright and stared at her intently, like a raptor studying his prey. Clara shivered under his steely gaze, remembering what Rose and Martha had told her. No-one dared move, and even Davros stood by and watched in fascination at the stare-down.

The stand-off was interrupted by the arrival of the well-dressed man from the argument the first day and a taller man with brown hair and a scarf that was far too long, even for him. Tremas released Clara and calmly walked towards the door, followed by Davros, who rudely bumped into the man with the scarf before walking out after Tremas. The man with the scarf and the dandy looked out after them, then turned back to the small group gathered.

"What were they doing here?" Asked the dandy, narrowing his eyes at Clara.

"The usual." Replied Jack nonchalantly as Rose and Martha sat back down. "I heard you had a good flirt with Patrick the other day."

The dandy, presumably Jon, turned his face to the floor and muttered a few choice words while his friend, Rose, and Martha chuckled. Clara flushed and glared at Jack, who shrugged innocently.

"Hello!" Said the man with the scarf, shaking Clara's hand. "I'm Tom Baker." Producing a paper bag, he offered it to her. "Would you like a Jelly Baby?" Clara smiled and took a red one, popping it into her mouth as Tom passed the bag around the room.

"How's it at the station?" Asked Jack as he poured what Clara recognized as a special recipe Shirley Temple and a ginger beer.

"Boring, thankfully." Said Jon, sitting down at a table next to Rose and Martha. "The only exciting thing was fishing young Ms. McShane and one of the transfers from Gallifrey out of the snog box... That and the ceaseless teasing from Officer McCrimmon." He added in a mutter.

"So that's what the fuss was about last night." Clara mused, remembering the cars across the street as she put the drinks at their table. "Lovely."

"Maybe River could put in a reservation for you and-" Jack started.

"Oh no!" Laughed Rose. "Don't even start, Jack! I'll never get that image out of my head!" Which prompted a hearty bout of laughter from around the room, and Jon standing up suddenly.

"Jack Harkness! I suggest you put your foot in your mouth and keep it there!" He shouted as Chris walked in through the door.

"What's all the fuss about?" He asked, looking around the room before seating himself at the bar.

"We're teasing Jon about his flirt with Patrick." Said Tom with a smile.

"Oh, that." Said Chris, turning around and smiling at Jon. "I hear that Paul's expecting you two to come in any time now." Which even roused a chuckle from Mr. Masters, but left Clara confused.

"He's the minister." Rose told her. "A little off though."

"Shoes!" Shouted Tom, laughing. "That is the last time we let that man have a drink!"

"Shoes?" Asked Clara, giggling. "How many did he have?"

"He insisted on having a Gargle Blaster," said Jack, "three's enough to get Donna Noble to kiss David Scott!"

"Then me." Said Chris. "Then Peter Davids. Then Matt Song. The poor woman had the worst hangover I've ever seen." Clara laughed, shaking her head.

"Are you all bonkers?" She asked.

"More or less." Said Jack. "But you'll fit in soon enough."

**BloodLily: This is up! I was going to wait for three reviews to post this, but Paradox Predator was kind enough to review a bunch if my other stories, so I'm putting this up early, for him! Unicorn?**

**Unicorn Plushie: I'm not doing the disclaimer! He said you shouldn't pay me!**

**BloodLily: Will you do it if I give you a cookie? It's one of my mom's special walnut-date balls...**

**U.P: Bloody doesn't own DW, now GIMMIE!**

**BloodLily: *gives* Ta for now! Remember, no new chapters until I get at least three reviews!**


	3. B-Day Edition!

As Clara walked up to the Rose and Crown, she noticed a smoking car pull up on the wrong side of the road. There was smoke coming out from under the hood as four people stepped out; a balding man, a dark-haired woman, a out-of-the-box redhead, judging from the shade of her hair, and a small blond girl.

"Well, ****!" Said the man in an American accent, smacking the hood of the car. "This car is ticking me off!"

"This is, what?" Asked the redhead in the same accent. "The fifth time? That rental dude saw us coming, huh?"

"How long's this going to take?" Asked the little girl. "We're going to miss my birthday party!"

"What?" Snapped the redhead. "You think this is my idea of fun? I've got PMS and jet lag, Shborgan! I'm less thrilled about it than you are!"

"Lily!" Said the woman. "Stop that! Apologize to your sister!"

"Sorry Morgan." Said the redhead. She leaned against the car and pulled out her iPod, tapping away.

"Can I play on it?" Asked Morgan.

"Over my cold, stiff body."

"Hey!" Said Clara, walking over. "What's the problem?" The man looked up and smiled at her.

"Hi." He said. "The dang car keeps breaking down."

"Oh." Said Clara. "I got that, even through the American English."

"You're the ones with the accent!" Said Morgan.

"We'll start speaking right when you start driving right." Muttered Lily, looking up from her iPod.

"What?" Asked Clara.

"Lily!" Shouted the woman.

"The Germans invented the car, and have always driven on the right side of the road." Lily said. "If you insist that we speak English wrong, then you have to admit that you drive wrong, otherwise your argument is null." She looked at Clara's slack-jawed face and smiled, then went back to her iPod.

"Er, um." Started Clara. "Well..."

"Clara!" Shouted Jack, leaning out through the door. "What's the hold-up?"

"Er, some tourists are having some car trouble." She answered.

"Really?" Jack asked. "I'll get Rickey to take a look at it!"

"It's Mickey!" Said a black man, coming out. "What is it?"

"Crooked salesman." Said Lily, still immersed in her iPod. "Gave us a jalopy made in 2003."

"What?" Asked Mickey.

"Car's been breaking down all throughout the trip." Explained the man. "This is the fifth dang time!"

"Well, I guess I'll take a look." Muttered Mickey. He walked over, lifted up the hood, and tapped on the engine. It fell over, as far as it could go.

"That didn't sound good." Said Morgan.

"You can say that again." Muttered Lily.

"Here's the problem." Said Mickey. "The connection with the engine's rusted through. Another casualty of the English weather, I'd say."

"Can you fix it?" Asked the woman.

"If I had a new engine, maybe." Said Mickey. "But I don't. I'd have to drive up to Gallifrey and get it, but the shop'll be closed by the time I get there. You'll have to stay overnight."

"But my party!" Whimpered Morgan. "Today's my birthday, and we were going to meet Grammy and Grampy and have cake!"

"This stinks." Groaned Lily.

"Oh, it's alright sweetie." Said the woman, rushing over to her daughter. "We'll just have it tomorrow."

"But my birthday's today!"

"If I ever meet that salesman again..." Muttered Lily.

"Can't we do something?" Whispered Clara.

"Yep." Jack whispered back.

—•—•—

Lily sighed and leaned on the back of her chair. The proprietor of the bar'd been nice enough to let then stay for a bit while they sorted out some sleeping arrangements or whatever, but she was bored out of her skull. She could listen to music, or something, but she'd lent Morgan her earbuds and the little weasel wouldn't give them back, and Mom'd agreed with her. Justice was dead anymore.

Lily blamed Obama.

She noted out of the corner of her eye that Morgan was chattering away with some of the people next to her, two guys who looked like they needed to keep away from light sockets, one in a red jacket, one in a scarf, and a dark-haired girl who looked like she may have the hots for scarfy. Lily sighed and began twirling her Yellowstone keychain around her finger, a little pocketknife. It only had three things on it, but it was the only one that had her name on it.

"Jelly baby?" Lily looked behind her and noticed Morgan holding out a green little gummy. She took it and popped it in her mouth.

"Thanks." She muttered, returning her gaze to her iPod.

"Mr. Tom offered me one, and he said you could have one too, so I picked out a green one, because I know you love green gummies."

"Thank him for me please." Muttered Lily.

"Are you reading something dirty?" Asked Morgan.

"Depends on your point of view." Muttered Lily.

"So you are?"

"It'd be dirty to Aunt Hattie, but not to Grandma."

"You say that about everything!" Morgan said.

"Aunt Hattie thinks everything is dirty." Lily said. "Remember when I showed up wearing that denim vest?"

"I didn't think you looked like a skunk."

"She called me a skank."

"Oh." There was a pause. "What's a skank?"

"A sleazy gal."

"I don't think you're sleazy."

"Thanks." Muttered Lily, eyes glued to her iPod. "Don't worry, I've been called worse."

"When?"

"I got into a fight on the forums over a pairing. It got real ugly real fast."

"What did they call you?"

"Bulgarian for a leprous hunchback, but I think it had a deeper meaning." Lily smiled, remembering the admin's reactions.

"That was mean." Said Morgan thoughtfully.

"I did insult their OTP." Said Lily. "But it was begging for it. Sam/Dean indeed. Ugh."

"Lily! Morgan!" The sister's heads snapped up to see an elderly couple in the doorway.

"Grammy! Grampy!" Morgan shouted gleefully.

"Back in business now!" Lily crowed, running towards them. "How'd you get here?"

Apparently Jack had some connections at the airport in Gallifrey and had tracked them down. Then the girl's dad, Scott, had called them up. Thirty minutes later, they were on their way to the town of TARDIS.

"Thank you!" Said Morgan, smiling up at Jack.

"No problem kiddo." Jack said, smiling.

"Bye!" Said Lily, getting in the car, along with her parents. "C'mon Morgan." Morgan ran after her, but before she to in, she waved one last time.

"Thanks Captain Jack!" She giggled.

"Captain Jack?" Mused Jack. "I like it."

**BloodLily: Happy Birthday Sis! :D Sorry if it's a bit rushed, but I did this in two days so I could post today. Hope you like! Reviewers get birthday pie!**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW! Or her sister!**

**BloodLily: The thing about the driving and accents was based on a forum arguement, and the mentioned point was made by scottyj86. And yes, I was called a leprous hunchback once. R&R please!**


	4. Ace

Clara laid down on the couch, lazily flicking through the channels on the Telly. There was never anything interesting on at this time of day! Robin Hood, Clara's last-ditch show, didn't even start until later. Maybe she could-

'I'm a lost cause, not a hero! But I'll make it on my own! It's me against the world!'

"What the-!" Clara asked, almost falling off the couch at the sudden music. Who'd play this? Not Chris, or Jon. Certainly not William or Susan! And neither Patrick nor the Songs struck Clara as fans of Simple Plan. Hey, that sorta rhymed...

'We won't let them change how we feel in our hearts! We're not gonna let them control us!'

"Oh, enough of this." Muttered Clara, getting up and storming out the front door. The sight that greeted her was a teenage girl, or possibly a young woman, walking down the street with a boom-box on full blare situated on her shoulders.

"OI!" Shouted Clara. "Turn it off!"

When she got no reply, Clara stormed over and tapped the girl on her empty shoulder. The girl spun around, then flipped off the radio.

"You scared me!" She accused, narrowing her eyes, black jacket flapping in the breeze.

"So did you, with your radio!" Clara said, gesturing wildly. "Keep it down please! I almost flipped off my couch when you walked down!"

"Really?" Asked the girl. "Hey, who're you anyway?"

"Clara Oswald." Said Clara. "I moved in a few days ago."

"Well, I'm Ace McShane." Said the girl, holding out her hand. "Sorry, but everyone's usually away by now. They either have school, or work, or they visit Gallifrey. It's usually cool with the Chief if I play it really loud around here."

"M'kay. Well, sorry, but you'll have to keep it down to a maximum of two decibels." Said Clara. "And... Hey, weren't you in the snog box the other night?"

"Yeah..." Said Ace, setting her radio down. "The Professor wasn't too pleased."

"The Professor?" Asked Clara.

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Bones." Said Ace. "He teaches geography at the school. He's trying to get me into the Academy in Gallifrey, but he just can't understand that I need to have fun once in a while!" She blew out a puff of air, then grinned. "But that transfer was a good snogger..."

"I'll take your word for it!" Clara laughed, shaking her head. "You can play your music, but keep it down to a reasonable volume, alright?"

"Ace!" Said Ace, picking up the radio. "Thanks, Clara!"

Clara smiled and waved as Ace bounded off down the street. At least the teen had interrupted the monotony. Clara walked back inside, plopped down on the couch, and started reading an article in the local newspaper. Something about the new mayor of Gallifrey. As Clara read the article, she was vaguely aware of a car pulling up in Chris's driveway, then another into the Foreman's. As Clara moved on to the weather (Cloudy with a chance of rain, no surprise there.) Someone pounded on the door.

"Ms. Oswald!" Shouted William. "Come out! I need your help on a matter!" Clara put the paper down, then answered the door. William was looking more stubborn than usual, as if he was in the middle of a nasty argument. Considering Chris had a similar expression on his face, that was probably the case.

"Why don't you come in," asked Clara, throwing the door open, "and I can put the kettle on?" William nodded graciously as he walked in, and Chris muttered a thanks as he plopped down on the couch.

Clara put the water into the kettle, then turned the burner on high, aware of the two men shooting glares at each other. Finally, the steam whistled out of the kettle, and Clara poured three mugs of steaming hot water, then put them, an assortment of tea bags from the welcome basket, the Jammy Dodgers, and the standard milk and sugar on a tray before carrying the whole thing out and setting it down on the coffee table before sitting down next to Chris.

There was complete silence for five minutes, with exception of the occasional clink of the spoon agains the side of a cup, or the plop of the tea. Finally, William took a sip of his tea, then fixed his gaze on Clara.

"Ms. Oswald." He said mildly. "You wouldn't have happened to have noted Mr. North's drinking habits, have you?"

"Er..." Said Clara, setting her tea down. "He gets drunk every night since I've started at the Rose and Crown, if that's what you mean..."

"And would you say that that would constitute at drinking problem, hm?" He asked.

"I suppose." Said Clara. "But,"

"See!?" Asked William vindictively, grinning at Chris. "She agrees!"

"What!?" Asked Clara. "What potty argument have I gotten into?!"

"I'm telling you William, I'm not an alcoholic!" Chris shouted, ignoring Clara, but effectively answering her question. So William thought Chris was an alcoholic, eh?

"You get drunk every night!" Shouted William. "Dear me, how is that not alcoholic behavior? You ought to get therapy!"

"It might be for the best." Said Clara, putting a hand on Chris's shoulder. "William's right. It can't be healthy."

"I'm not a bl-"

At that moment the doorbell rang and Clara got up to answer it, leaving Chris and William to their bickering. Stubborn goats.

"Who is- BLOOMING HEY!" Clara screamed, startling William and Chris out of their argument. They looked up to see a distraught Susan supporting another girl, with bruises and a bloodied nose.

"Susan! Dodo!" Cried William, shooting up faster than Clara deemed possible for such an elderly man. "Oh dear, what's happened?"

"It was Dalek Davros." Dodo panted as Clara helped her to the couch. "Susan an' me were talkin' out by that lot behind the school, and then 'e showed up and started actin' all crass, and 'e tried to snog Susan!"

"He WHAT!?" Asked William, clearly outraged. Susan nodded tearfully as she sat down next to him, burying her face in his coat.

"That's when I jumped 'im." Said Dodo. "Wish I could say 'e came out worse. An' then Ace came around, and she hit 'im over the 'ead with 'er baseball bat, but-" Dodo looked panicked, "-'e started off after 'er! You gotta do somethin'! If 'e catches 'er, 'e'll beat 'er inta th' asphalt... At least." The girl shivered and Chris got up, a grave look on his face.

"I've had enough of this delinquent! I'll go, Clara, William, you stay there." He said, storming out the door.

"Right." Muttered Clara, running off after him. "You're not ditching me that easily!"

—

Ace panted heavily. That Dalek sure was fast! If she could just reach the Professor's house, she might be...

"I HAVE YOU NOW!"

Ace yelped as he snagged her backpack, stumbling backwards. Dalek threw her to the ground face first and Ace shouted as her face slammed into the hard, rough asphalt.

"Let me go!" Grunted Ace, trying to force her way back up.

"Not until I teach you a lesson." Said Dalek. He sat on her back, paused for a moment to pull back his sleeves, then began grinding Ace's face into the asphalt. She fought back wildly, but Dalek calmly slammed her head into the street, causing a flash of red, black, and just about every pattern that could be made of the two. By the time she recovered, Ace was sure she'd need a skin graft.

"Get... Off! Me!" Ace shouted at him.

"Not until I'm done, you little freak!" Dalek jammed her forehead into the asphalt.

"That hurt, didn't it?" Asked Dalek, turning Ace's head around so he could start rubbing off her nose. "ANSWER YOU LITTLE-"

"What are you doing!?" Asked a familiar voice.

"Professor!" Ace said, trying to get a better look. "Oh, thank goodness!" At that moment she felt the weight get lifted off her back.

"You miserable whelp!" Said Chris, slamming Dalek into a nearby fence. "This is the last time I'll tolerate any of your tricks!"

"Are you okay?" Asked Clara as she and the Professor helped Ace up. "Oh gosh! Your face!"

"This isn't so bad..." Ace said, lying through her teeth.

"What do you mean by that!?" Asked Clara, inspecting the road rash. "I can practically see your skull!"

"Let's get you over to the side of the road." Said the Professor, supporting Ace. "I believe I hear a car coming."

As they moved Ace over to the curb, a police car showed up.

"What in th' blue blazes happened?" Asked a Scottish Officer, popping his head out of the car. "Ace? Blooming he-"

"Dalek Davros!" Said Chief Lethbridge-Stewart, stepping out of the car. "This is the third time this month! Do you know what that means?"

"Time for you to lock me up until Uncle Davros bails me out?" Leered Dalek.

"I don't think we'll be able to accept bail this time." Said the Chief, causing rage across Dalek's face and relief across the Professor's, Clara's, Chris's, and what was left of Ace's.

—

"Chief!" Greeted Jack. "How'd it go?"

"Davros was acting like his usual, *charming*, self." Said the Brigadier. "He threatened me with every legal term, and a few that weren't."

"What did he say?" Asked Clara. "Anything to drink?"

"A beer please." Said the Chief. "I need something light in case I'm the subject of a hit!"

"You want Jack to taste it first?" Asked Clara. "Just in case it's poisoned."

"That's not funny, Clara." Said the Chief, even though he smirked a little.

"I wouldn't put it past Davros to have a hit squad." Said Perpugilliam Brown, the local florist, known as Peri to... Everyone. "He's a messed up wacko."

"Hear, hear!" Said Professor Bones, walking in.

"How's Ace doing?" Asked Ben, a young man from the Navy. He was spending his shore leave in TARDIS, and would go back to port the next day.

"Swimmingly. She'll have to get skin grafts, but it could have been much, much worse." He sat down with the Chief. "Why can't Davros contain that errant nephew of his!?"

"Eh." Said Jo Grant, Jon Smith's assistant. "I think he actually encourages that sort of behavior. We all know how Davros acts." She turned around and screamed, nearly falling out of her chair. Angela Weeper stepped back, ducking her head as she sat back down with her sisters, who were tittering, causing the young woman to blush even more.

"I can't wait until Tara comes back from visiting Romana in Gallifrey." Muttered Jack. "Dalek always acts up when she's away."

"Who?" Asked Clara.

"She's the Mayor." Explained Polly, a young secretary who was sitting with Ben. "I think you'd like her."

"Hm." Said Clara. "Well, we'll just have to see."

**Bloody: Of course, we know how that goes. **

**Unicorn Plushie: I wonder if the TARDIS found a soft spot for Clara after Trenzalore.**

**Bloody: ALso, since it's nigh impossible to get three reviews on this story, and I've got a bunch of chapters, both planned and on the way, I'm changing the review limit to two reviews until further notice.**

**Unicorn: Bloody doesn't own DW, bye!**


	5. Patrick's Problem

Clara walked down Main Street. It was three thirty-ish, and she wanted to do some shopping before her job. A hidden bunch of moths had gotten to her favorite jumpers, and she was in desperate need of some new ones. As she walked along, she noticed arguing coming from across the street. She looked across to see Patrick being badgered by Mr. Tremas. Clara suppressed a shudder before walking across the street.

"–those rumors are completely untrue! I promise you that, Anthony!"

"That's the sort of thing I would say if my ward had contracted AIDS." Said Tremas. Clara paused for a moment, then quickened her pace.

"And I suppose you'd say she had if she hadn't." Huffed Patrick, quickening his pace.

"Don't lie to me Williams." Said Mr. Tremas. He grabbed Patrick by the shoulder.

"Oi! Lay off beardy!" Shouted Clara, stepping onto the sidewalk.

"Ms. Oswin!" Said Patrick with a mixture of relief and worry.

"This is a private conversation between Mr. Williams and myself." Said Mr. Tremas, folding his hands, pinkies forming a temple. "It would fare you best to stay out this and let the men handle it."

"Well, sorry." Said Clara, peeved. "But this is the Twenty-First century, and I happen to dislike situations when someone's being pestered."

"Whatever you say, dear." Said Mr. Tremas, walking off. "Be careful, or you'll catch your death."

"..."

"..."

"How much of that did you hear?" Asked Patrick.

"Enough." Said Clara. "I promise not to breathe a word."

"It's not true!" Said Patrick, stalking away. Clara ran up next to him.

"I believe you!" She said. "I wouldn't be surprised if something happened and the rumor just... Started up. These things take the smallest quirks and spin them out of propor-" Patrick stopped suddenly and Clara almost bumped into him.

"It's not true... That it's AIDS." Said Patrick quietly. "Victoria has cancer, and I'm sending her off to the hospital in Gallifrey." Clara gasped slightly.

"Oh." She said. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Said Patrick. "Though I would prefer it if you kept it quiet."

"Of course." Said Clara. "You didn't even have to ask."

"Thank you." Said Patrick, letting out a small breath of relief. "The world could use more people like you."

Clara smiled as they parted ways. The next hour was a bit of a blur. She picked up the jumpers, then dropped them off at her house, grabbed some dinner (she could really use a trip to the grocer's or something, she was running low on dinners), then ran back over to the bar, a little late. The first thing she noticed was the fact that there was a full-blown, Hollywood-worthy, bar fight going on.

Jon Smith and Roger Masters were having a heated argument, punctuated by one tossing the other across the room.

"SO YOU CAN SHUT UP MASTERS, BECAUSE I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU SULLY PATRICK'S GOOD NAME!"

"How quaint Jon." Said Masters, ducking a blow from the enraged man. "I was under the impression that you hated the man."

"Granted, he and I have had our disagreements, but even I would not go this far! Victoria is a good girl, and you are doing nothing but spreading–" whack "–filthy–" crack "–lies!" Mr. Masters staggered back, nose bleeding from the punches.

"Clara!" Said Jack, head poking up from behind the bar. Chris opened one bleary eye, then smiled. Clara guessed he'd had a few, then been KO'd in the fight.

"What the- oop!" Clara said, ducking an accidental blow from Mr. Masters.

"Over here!" Hissed a voice. Clara ran over and hid behind a table with a blond man in a cricket outfit, a brunette in a stewardess's uniform, Tom Baker, and a dark-haired woman Clara recognized from the papers as Sarah Jane Smith, a journalist.

"What's going on?" Clara hissed.

"There's a rumor going around town that Victoria Waterfield, Patrick William's ward, has AIDS." Said Tom, scowling. "Poppycock, of course. Dear old Roger came in spouting variations which I will not repeat in present company, and Chris, then Jon, decided that they'd better shut him up. Oh, this is Sarah Jane Smith, Tegan Jovanka, and Peter Davids." He pointed to Sarah Jane, the stewardess, and the cricketer respectively. "This is Clara Oswald."

"Pleased to meet-" Clara yelped as the table they were hiding behind gave a sudden lurch, summoning a few choice words from the group.

"Likewise." Said Tegan. Peter smiled and tipped his hat.

"Hello." Said Sarah Jane, reaching forwards to shake Clara's hand.

"So this is all because of the rumor, huh?" Asked Clara.

"Silly, isn't it?" Asked Peter. "I've had to stop more than my share of fights at the school."

"Oh, Luke came home today with a bloody nose." Said Sarah Jane. "Said something about getting into a fight with some other boy over that."

"Who's Luke?" Asked Clara.

"My brother." Said Sarah. Then the bell above the door rang.

"Och, what's going on?!" Asked the familiar voice of Jamie.

"This'll prove interesting." Muttered Tegan.

"Why?" Asked Clara.

"Erm, hello Officer,"

"I'm off-duty."

"Jamie. There's a bit a of a disagreement being settled right now."

"Over what!? Th' place is smashed to pieces!"

"It's really just the tables, Jamie." Said Jack. "The insurance will cover it."

"Why is Chris black n' blue?!"

"Had a few too many before I started throwing punches."

"Why were you throwing 'em in th' first place?!"

"Roger was insulting Victoria and insinuating that she'd been-" Jon started.

"HE WHAT?!"

"That's why." Whispered Tegan.

"Mm." Clara said.

"And I stand by my words." Said Masters.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"CREAG AN TUIRE!" Shouted Jamie, the fight soon continuing.

"He sweet on her or something?" Asked Clara.

"Yeah." Said Sarah Jane. "Everyone knows except for Victoria and maybe Patrick."

"I wonder what's really going on, though." Said Peter. "I was informed that she'll have to be leaving school for long periods of time and to prepare some schoolwork for her to take."

"I hear that Patrick's been to see his insurers a lot." Said Tegan. "Something's up."

"I'll ask him about it later." Said Tom.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Asked Clara. "What if he doesn't want people to know? We should just leave him alone and not ask him about it!"

"..."

"..."

"What is it?" Asked Sarah Jane, sitting up on her heels.

"Nothing!" Said Clara. "I was just saying that maybe we shouldn't pester him about it!"

"He told you, didn't he?" Asked Peter. Tegan gasped a little bit as Clara ducked her head.

"...Yes." She admitted. "But he asked me not to tell."

"Hm." Said Peter, and the subject was immediately dropped.

"Do you watch cricket?" Asked Peter. Tegan elbowed him and he looked at her, looking like a kicked puppy.

"No." Said Clara.

"Drat."

They talked like that for the next few minutes. Clara learned that Tegan was from Australia and had gotten a job at the airport in Gallifrey, liked the color purple, and was living with her Aunt Vanessa until she could find a flat. Peter liked cricket and celery, ("Is that why you have some on your jacket?" "When I first met him, I thought he was compensating for something." "Tegan!" "Ha ha!") was a family friend of Adric Alzarian, and had adopted Nyssa Traken after the murder. Tom owned the local sweet shop, ("That's why you always carry around Jelly Babies?"), and had been mayor of Gallifrey once, but only to stop a killer. Sarah Jane was an investigative journalist, and had once infiltrated the Gallifrey police base, which was how she'd met Jon and Tom.

Clara found herself telling them about how she'd nannied for the children of some family friends after their mother had died, and how they'd contracted a new nanny so she could go travel. She'd gone from Scotland to Ireland to France, and decided to settle down somewhere after she left Spain from visiting the rocks of Gibraltar.

"So I thought I'd settle down here..."

"What the-?"

"Oh dear!"

"Chief?!"

The five-some poked their heads out from behind the table to see Chief Lethbridge-Stewart and Patrick standing in the doorway, gaping at the scene.

"Come to stop it, huh?" Asked Tegan.

"Quite obviously." Said the Chief. "Officer McCrimmon, I hope you can explain yourself."

"Er... Um..." Said Jamie. "Well, Mr. Masters kept saying bad things about Victoria... So Jon an' Chris got into a fight... Then I came along and got a wee bit excited."

The Chief buried his face in his hands before looking up at the three men, then at Chris.

"Of course." He muttered. "I should have known."

"Excuse me Chief." Said Patrick, stepping up. "I believe I have a confession to make. About a month ago, Victoria began getting sick. As it got worse, I finally went to see Dr. Jones. She confirmed that Victoria has bone cancer."

Everyone gasped, murmuring amongst themselves. Even Mr. Masters had the decency to look abashed.

"We decided to keep it quiet." Patrick said. "But somehow, the rumor got around that it was AIDS. I'm not quite sure how, but it did all the same, not that it matters. Victoria's leaving for the hospital tomorrow, and I wanted to apologize for all the trouble."

"Oh Patrick..." Said Jack, slowly standing up. "I'm so sorry."

"My condolences." Said Tom.

"It happens to the best." Said Peter.

"Thank you." Said Patrick, nodding his head before leaving.

Everyone was completely silent.

"Well." Said Jack, slowly. "I guess we should start cleaning up."

"Yeah." Said Clara.

"I'll help." Said Sarah Jane.

"Me too." Said Tegan.

"As will I." Said Tom.

They all ended up pitching in, except for Mr. Masters, who left without saying a word. But while they worked, they were all planning.

The next morning, Patrick's front step was loaded with gift baskets.

**Bloody: Ho. Lee. Crud guys! Two reviews within an hour of posting? I feel so loved. :')**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW, and the idea for this chapter was submitted by saph34. Also, out of curiosity, who's your favorite Doctor?**

**Bloody: R&R! Bye!**


	6. School Day

Peter Davids sat in his classroom, lazily tossing a cricket ball up into the air. It had been two weeks since Victoria had left for Gallifrey, and things had become reasonably dull in that time. As dull as it could ever get in Tardis, anyway, Peter thought as someone knocked on the door.

"Yes?" He said. The door opened and Zoe Heriot poked her head in.

"Mr. Davids?" She asked. "You wanted to see me?"

"Ah." He said, catching his cricket ball and putting it in his drawer. "Take a seat Zoe." The young girl, clad in a pink, sparkly top and blue jeans, sat down nervously in a chair.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" She asked.

"Zoe, first off I'd like to say that your grades have been excellent. One-hundred percent in not only my class, but in Ms. Wright's, Mr. Chesterton's, Mr. Lake's, Professor Bones's, I could go on forever." Peter said, smiling slightly.

"But?" Asked Zoe. "You wouldn't have called me to your office just to say that."

"You're right." He said, straightening up. "While your academic life is flourishing, we've also noticed that you don't have any friends."

"Is that a problem?" Zoe asked.

"Yes, actually." Said Peter, straightening up. "While I can understand not wanting to have a boatload of people hanging around you, you should really try to socialize more. I understand that you feel more comfortable by yourself, but you still need someone your own age to talk to."

"Er..." Zoe said, staring at her knees.

"You don't immediately have to make friends for life." Said Peter, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just try it. Trust me."

"Alright." Zoe said as she nodded. Peter patted her on the back.

"That's it." He said, smiling. "You can go now."

"Thank you Mr. Davids." Zoe said, standing up.

"You have Mr. Chesterton's class next, don't you?" Peter asked. "Please tell him to show up at the Rose and Crown tonight."

"Yes sir." Said Zoe as she left the room.

She mulled over the conversation as she walked down the hallways. Why would she need friends so badly that Mr. Davids felt the need to call her in and talk to her about it? It didn't make sense. Zoe sighed. There were far too many things in the world that didn't make sense.

She was so distracted that she didn't notice the sound of footsteps sneaking up behind her, until the owners of the feet dumped a bucket of cold water on her head. Zoe coughed and spluttered, turning around to see a pair of 'popular' girls tittering. Carolyn and Rebecca, if she remembered correctly. She'd refused to do their homework for them and inadvertently ticked them off.

"Looks like wittle Zoe's all wet." Said Rebecca, grabbing Zoe's bag and tossing it down the hallway. The unfortunately empty hallway.

"That's what she gets for saying no to us, right Becky?" Asked Carolyn, holding the bucket tightly.

"Right Carrie." Said Rebecca.

"Please leave me alone." Said Zoe, trying to ease past them. Rebecca pushed her and Zoe slipped on the hallway floor, falling on her butt.

"Why would we do that?" Asked Carolyn, twirling the bucket in her hands. "It's not like we're done with you yet." Zoe tried to get up off the floor, but Carolyn hit her with the bucket. Zoe gasped, scooting back, but Rebecca grabbed her ankle and Zoe slipped, falling onto her back.

"Stay right there..." Said Carolyn, winding up for another hit. As she was about to swing down again, someone grabbed the bucket and yanked it out of her hand.

"Stop it!" Shouted the voice of Susan as Vicki Pallister swung at Carolyn with the bucket, knocking her down next to Zoe, who took the opportunity to scramble up off of the ground, then kicked Rebecca, who yelped, before crawling off down the hall, a broken-nosed Carolyn in tow.

"Here." Said Susan, handing Zoe back her bag. "We were walking this way and we though we should help."

"Thank you." Said Zoe, taking the bag and wringing out her hair.

"I'm Vicki Pallister, and this is Susan Foreman." Said Vicki.

"I know." Said Zoe.

"Really?" Asked Vicki.

"Why is that such a surprise?" Asked Zoe. "We have had most of the same classes for the past two years."

"Well..." Said Susan. "You've never really paid us any attention."

"We weren't even sure you knew there were two girls named Susan Foreman and Vicki Pallister on the face of the Earth." Said Vicki. "You're usually out of it, unless you're in class or something."

Susan nodded in agreement.

"Well, I knew." Said Zoe, a little bit hurt. She'd talked to them once or twice, hadn't she?

"Hm." Said Vicki.

"If you'd like, we could get you some clothes." Offered Susan.

"I keep an extra outfit in my locker." Said Zoe. "But, thank you."

"There they are!"

The three girls wheeled about to see Rebecca and Carolyn leading a flustered Ms. Wright down the hallway.

"They attacked us!" Screeched Carolyn. "That blond one hit me in the face with a bucket, and Zoe kicked me!"

"Only after you dumped water all over Zoe!" Shouted Vicki.

"If we hadn't been there, you probably would've hit HER in the face with a bucket!" Said Susan. "Ms. Wright, you've got to believe us!"

"Well, I have to admit, it is a bit of a stretch." Ms. Wright said. "You expect me to believe that three of the most well-behaved girls in the school attacked you?" She asked Carolyn and Rebecca. The two girls shuffled their feet.

"It was all Rebecca's idea!" Carolyn shouted.

"You were the one that brought the bucket!" Rebecca screamed back.

"I'm sure Ms. Shaw will be happy to see you both in her office." Said Ms. Wright. "Are you three alright?"

"Yes." Said Susan.

"I think so." Said Vicki.

"I am, thanks to Vicki and Susan." Said Zoe.

"Good." Said Ms. Wright. "Now run along. Class starts soon."

"Thank you Ms. Wright." Susan said as she, Vicki, and Zoe started down the hallway.

"Zoe." Said Vicki after a bit. "You don't usually sit with anyone at lunch, do you?"

"No." Said Zoe.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Asked Susan.

"...Sure." Said Zoe, smiling a bit. "That would be great."

—•—•—

Nyssa Traken sat at her desk, fiddling with her pencil bag and glancing nervously at the clock. Her best friend, Adric Alzarian should've been here by now! He was never late to class, not since the first day of school, and not now, with a test coming up!

Just as Nyssa was beginning to worry, he came in, blushing and out of breath, and took his seat just before Mr. Chesterton came in. Mr. Chesterton was also looking a little flushed, but his wide smile made it clear that he was just fine.

'What happened?' Nyssa wrote on a piece of notebook paper, passing it to Adric when Mr. Chesterton wasn't looking.

'We shouldn't be doing this, you know.' Was the response.

'TELL ME.' Nyssa wrote, underlining each word.

Adric read the reply, sighed, and wrote what happened, but as he passed the note, one of their classmates, Kylee Thompson shot up and said: "Adric and Nyssa are passing notes!" Making sure to point an accusing finger at the two, as if Mr. Chesterton didn't know who they were already.

"Adric, Nyssa." Said Mr. Chesterton, coming forward and taking the note Adric was limply holding.

"You really don't wanna do that, Mr. Chesterton." He said weakly. "You really don't want to do that."

"I'll be the judge of that." Said Mr. Chesterton. He cleared his throat and looked down at the note. "I saw Mr. Chesterton and Ms. Wright snogging by the–" He blanched and looked at Adric and Nyssa, who looked about as mortified as he did. Adric in particular was pressing his forehead to his desk, as if hoping that the faux wood would bite it off and end him. Everyone was silent for what seemed like hours.

"Honey Parkins owes me ten quid." Said someone in the back of the class.

"Only ten quid?" Asked someone else. Nyssa turned around to see it was Vicki. "I owe Susan fifteen." Susan nodded slightly and Zoe giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

"What?" Mr. Chesterton finally asked.

"They were making bets on whether you and Ms. Wright were having a romantic relationship."

Everyone spun around to see Ms. Shaw leaning on the doorway.

"Speaking of which, I'm probably about five quid richer." She said with a smirk.

"Good lord." Muttered Mr. Chesterton, burying his face in his hands. "Has everyone made-"

"I believe Captain Yates couldn't find anyone to bet with." Said Ms. Shaw, causing the entire classroom to break out laughing.

"I haven't." Said Zoe.

"This has been an interesting day." Muttered Nyssa. Adric nodded weakly.

"Let's hope it doesn't get any more interesting." He muttered.

"In Tardis?" Asked Nyssa. "You must be joking!"

**Bloody: *collapses on the floor* Heh... heh...**

**Unicorn Plushie: *fans her* Hello. Bloody doesn't own Doctor Who. Also, since she's published her last finished chapter for this story, she's changing it back to three reviews before an update.**

**Bloody: Th-three updates! In one day! One day... hee hee...**

**Unicorn Plushie: No disrespect is meant to you wonderful reviewers, but she's already gone around the bend. I don't think I'd be able to cope if she went around the ****_block. _****Thank you, and have a nice day.**


	7. Mr Colin Maxwell

Peri Brown was on her was to the Florist's shop, when she noticed something. One of the houses she walked by to get to work everyday had its door hanging open, which was swaying in the breeze.

"Hello?" She asked, walking towards the house. There was no response, and both her pulse and pace quickened. Someone lived in there! What if they'd had an accident, or been robbed, or worse, what if Mr. Tremas... Peri crossed the threshold without a second thought.

She moved carefully, trying not to disturb the piles of newspapers, pens, and countless other things that littered the floor. At one point, she fell over and landed on a plastic clothes hanger, letting out an indignant squeal.

As she got up, rubbing the sore spot, she heard someone behind her. She turned around just as she was slammed into a nearby wall and the person began squeezing the life out of her, barely having enough time to scream!

—•—•—

Clara and Melanie Bush were walking by and discussing a variety of things, from the weather to the fact that almost everyone in town was now either a few quid richer or poorer, and Mr. Chesterton's and Ms. Wright's reaction to that fact, when they heard Peri's scream. They glanced at each other and raced towards the sound, rushing in to see a plump, blond man in an extremely bright and garish coat strangling Peri.

"Off her!" Shouted Clara, smacking him over the head with her purse. The man wheeled about, letting Peri slide to the ground, gasping for air.

"Colin!" Shouted Melanie. "What're you DOING?"

"Melanie?" Asked the man. "What's going on?!"

"Nothing, except for you strangling people!" Shouted Clara, who then leaned over and asked; "Peri, are you alright?" The young woman nodded, rubbing her throat and coughing.

"I thought she was robbing me!" Said the man, crossing his arms. "Skulking around my house like that!"

"I was worried that you might've been hurt!" Coughed Peri, glaring up at him. "Is this the thanks I get?"

"You could have said something!" He protested.

"I was too busy trying to navigate the piles of junk on the floor!"

"It's not junk!"

"Old newspaper, broken pens, stained socks, and clothes hangers aren't junk?!"

"No, as a matter of fact."

"Stop it, both of you." Said Melanie, stepping in between them. "Peri, this is Colin Maxwell. Collin, this is Peripu- Perpuglle- Purple-"

"Perpugilliam Brown." Said Peri, managing a weak smile at Mel's inability to pronounce her name.

"Also known as Peri." Said Mel, nodding. "Now that you know her name, Colin, you can apologize for trying to kill her." Mel crossed her arms as Colin spluttered indignantly.

"But it was her fault!" He managed.

"She was trying to make sure that you were alright, and you strangled her for her troubles. Apologize. Right. Now." She ordered. Colin ducked his head and muttered something.

"What did you say?" Asked Melanie, leaning forward. "I couldn't hear that, could you Clara?"

"No, I couldn't." Said Clara, helping Peri up.

"I'm sorry." Muttered Colin.

"Louder." Said Mel.

"I'M SORRY!" Shouted Colin, stomping out of the room and slamming the door shut.

"Good enough." Sighed Mel. "Let's go."

"I can walk." Said Peri, and Clara let go of her, but hovered around, just in case. They left the house quickly, Melanie shutting the door behind them and making sure it was latched properly.

"What's his problem?" Asked Clara.

"He's... er..." Melanie snapped her fingers. "Not completely stable." She finally answered.

"Why not?" Asked Peri.

"He's a chemist." Said Mel. "And one of his partners, Rani Tempus, I think her name was, used him as a test subject for a chemical she was working on. He was unknowingly taking daily doses of an experimental psychotherapeutic drug for three years. He's actually really nice, but..." She made a sympathetic face and Peri nodded.

"Does everyone have some sad backstory around here?" Asked Clara. "I mean, it's like something out of a novel!"

"What kind of novel, I wonder?" Mused Peri.

"A drama." Said Mel. "But with some friendship mixed in."

"That's right." Moaned Clara. "My life is a drama novel."

"Would you have preferred a sci-fi?" Asked Mel, smiling wryly.

"...Maybe." Said Clara. "Peri, are you feeling up to going to your shop?" The American nodded.

"Thanks." She said. "I can walk the rest of the way myself."

"Bye!" Said Mel, waving at Peri as she left.

—•—•—

Peri sighed as she rearranged the flower arrangement on her desk for the millionth time. Business was slow, as usual. It wouldn't pick up until Christmas, when everybody and their cousin would be making centerpieces and the like, and she'd end up ordering a boatload of poinsettias for Paul, then spike again at Valentine's, then she'd order Easter Lilies for Paul again. It'd been the same routine every year since she moved to Tardis, and it wasn't likely to change soon.

It's not like she had much in stock, either. Half the town had bought flowers for Victoria when they found out she had cancer. Jamie, actually, was steadily depleting the supply of forget-me-nots she'd just ordered. Peri smiled lazily as she remembered the playful needling she'd given Jamie last time they'd met. He'd flushed red as the kilt she'd seen him wear, and finally left, muttering in Gaelic.

The bell on the door rang as someone opened it.

"Be up in a minute!" Shouted Peri, jolting out of her reverie. She made her way through the cramped room, which in all honesty looked more like a jungle than an office, and burst out the door to come face to face with Colin Maxwell. There was an extremely awkward silence as they stared at each other, each surprised at meeting the other.

Finally, Colin gestured with his left hand, which was holding a bouquet of purple flowers.

"I-I'd like to buy these please." He said. Peri nodded, directed him over to the cash register, and rung him up. It took longer than usual, because her hands were shaking.

"Your hands are shaking." Colin noted as she punched in the wrong numbers for the third time. "Is it because–"

"No!" Said Peri, maybe a little too quickly. "It's fine, I'm just... surprised." She put on a smile that probably looked as fake as it was and felt, and Colin raised an eyebrow.

"If I'm making you that uncomfortable, I could leave." He said.

"No! No, you're fine." Said Peri as she finally managed to get it right. She smiled, for real this time and tapped the screen. "Three pounds please." Colin fumbled in his pockets and brought out a five pound note, and Peri rapidly made change, handing it over to Colin, who put it back in his pocket. There was another awkward pause.

"Thank you, Ms. Brown." He said.

"You're welcome." She said, smiling as he left. She leaned against the wall and smiled. Melanie was right, she thought. He was actually nice. As she looked around the shop, her gaze settled on a bouquet of purple flowers. _The same purple flowers Colin had bought! _

Just as her eyes widened with realization, Colin rushed in, flushed.

"Did I happen to leave–"

Peri rounded the counter and gave him the flowers. He nodded and started out the door, then wheeled back around.

"Thank you." He said, before running off. As the door swung shut, Peri couldn't help but smile.

**Bloody: Finished that one! Cookies for whoever can name the episode this was based off of!**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW! Bye!**


	8. Author's Note

**News Anchor: Breaking news! FanFiction authoress BloodLily16 and sidekick Unicorn Pillow Pet–**

**Unicorn Plushie: UNICORN PLUSHIE TO YOU DIRTBAG!**

**News Anchor: Whatever. They are in desperate need of ideas for the story, A Town Called Tardis. They will credit the idea at the end of the story if it is used. Thank you ahead of time.**

* * *

**Bloody: That's right! Send them in please!**


	9. A Robbery And A Question

David Scott was having a really bad day.

Why? It might have had something to do with the fact that he was starkers, dripping wet, and being held at gunpoint by some robbers who'd chosen to peruse his bedroom for anything they could make a few pounds on.

"Could I at least put some pants on?" He asked, gesturing downwards. The robber holding the gun (who was female) shook her head as her friend finished cleaning out the bedroom.

"Alright." He said, turning to face them. "Stick 'im in th' closet, an' be quick about it." The woman let out what sounded like a sigh, and pushed him into the closet, locking the door from the outside. David took the opportunity to put some pants on, then sat down for what he thought would be a long wait.

In fact, less than a minute later, the door swung open and he was greeted by the face of Sergeant Benton.

"Mike?" Asked David, squinting and tilting his head at the officer.

"We caught them as they were coming out." He said, helping David out. "Rose Tyler called, and said you were being held at gunpoint in your birthday suit."

"What?" Asked David. "How'd she know–" He turned his head and looked out a window to see Rose waving at him.

"… Ah." He finally said, nodding.

"It's a good thing you had it open." Said Benton. "Otherwise you could've been in there for hours!"

"I always keep it open." Said David flatly, still looking out the window.

"…What?" Asked Benton, something between amusement and shock appearing on his face. David nodded.

"The blinds broke and I haven't put new ones up." He said, staring at Rose. "I'm going to have a talk with that girl."

—•—•—

At the Rose and Crown, it was completely normal. Clara was passing out drinks, Jack was mixing them and flirting with everybody who wasn't married, when David walked into the room, the bell jangling merrily.

"Hello David." Said Clara, glancing up from her chat with Tegan and Sarah Jane.

"Hello David." Said Jack, winking at him.

"Hello Clara." He said, before turning and pointing at Jack. "And still, no." He scanned the room until he found Rose, and walked up to her.

"Hi David!" Said Rose, smiling brightly at him. David smiled back.

"We need to talk." He said. "Away from everybody."

"Alright." Said Rose, getting up and following David to a secluded corner.

"Firstly, thanks for calling the police." Said David.

"No problem." Said Rose.

"But…" David scratched the back of his head. "I couldn't help but wonder if you… look in on me very often."

"What do you mean?" Asked Rose, crossing her arms.

"Well, at night, when you have nothing else to do but sit around and… look at things…" David said, getting increasingly uncomfortable. Rose gaped at him, put her arms to her side, then pointed at herself.

"Are you asking if I've been looking–"

"Er, in so many words." Said David, blushing a bit.

"N-n-No!" She said, spluttering, "I mean, why do you ask?"

"Oh, just wondering." Said David. "After I noticed you… saw… last night, I thought of how the window's always open, and I just–" David stopped and scanned the room. Just as he'd thought, everybody was staring at them, completely silent. Even Donna Noble, who normally couldn't keep her mouth shut, was completely silent.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Rose Tyler, you naughty girl!" Said Jack, grinning ear to ear. All the sudden the spell was broken and everybody started chuckling.

"We're never going to hear the end of this one, are we?" Asked Rose.

"No." Said David. "I don't think so."

**Bloody: They won't. *trollface* I'm sorry for making this so short, but I have a life other than FanFiction, AKA homeschool, watching Mindcrack and Terraria Lets Plays, and playing Terraria, though that's been underscored by watching YouTube. My point is that, due to a general lack of breathing space, I'm upping the limit to four reviews until further notice. Sorry, but I'm typing 'em and publishing 'em like crazy, and my October's going to be packed! I know I'm making a lot of excuses, but seriously, I just wrote this today, and I'll probably end up with three reviews before I go to bed. Nothing's wrong with that, but I probably won't be able to publish a chapter every day at my current rate. **

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own Doctor Who, and the inspiration for this chappie was provided by SpritAni! Stay strong, and peace!**


	10. Susan Did WHAT?

It had been another long night in Tardis. Clara had arrived home from the pub and was unlocking the door when she looked over and noticed the Foreman's front door hanging open.

"Susan?" Clara called out, walking towards the door. "Mr. Foreman?" There was no answer.

'They could just be eating.' She thought, picking up her pace. 'Or watching Telly.' But it was too late for that. At ten o' clock, both Susan and William would be in bed, especially considering it was a weeknight.

"Mr. Foreman!" She called out. "Susan!" By this time she was at the door. She peeked in and saw a crumpled figure on the floor. "MR. FOREMAN!" Clara shouted, running to the old man's side. He didn't stir, but his pulse was thankfully stable. Clara flicked on the lights and pulled out her mobile phone, dialing up the police.

"Tardis Police Department." Said the familiar voice of Officer McCrimmon.

"Jamie! Oh thank goodness!" Said Clara.

"Clara? What's wrong?"

"It's Mr. Foreman. He's unconscious and the front door was open. I think he may have been attacked!"

"Who is it?" Clara looked down at William, who was blearily stirring. He opened one eye and stared at her. "Clara?"

"It's going to be alright Mr. Foreman." Said Clara, putting what she hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "The police'll find your attacker."

"No, no!" William tried to sit up. "You don't understand. He's taken her!"

"Taken who?" Asked Clara.

"What's going on?" Asked Jamie.

"Susan." Said William. "He kidnapped Susan!" Clara's eyes shot open.

"Jamie, Mr. Foreman's awake. He says that whoever broke in's kidnapped Susan."

"What? We'll send a squad over right away!"

—•—•—

Jamie slammed the phone onto the holder so hard and fast that the click and clatter woke up Sergeant Benton, who'd been snoring away next to Jamie.

"What's that?" He asked, on the alert.

"Just got a call from Clara Oswald." Said Jamie, grabbing his radio. "Attention squad car. 207 and a 242 at 101 Aztec Drive, over."

"What the-" Benton's eyes widened. "Who was kidnapped?!"

"Susan Foreman." Said Jamie, jumping out of his chair.

"I'll get the Chief!" Said Benton, charging into the office, where the Chief and Jon were arguing about some facet of policy. "Chief!"

"What is it Benton?" Asked the Chief, turning to look at the officer.

"Susan Foreman's been kidnapped!" He said.

"What?" Asked Jon.

"We'll continue this discussion another time!" Said the Chief to Jon, before turning back to Benton. "Who's on duty?"

"Captain Yates." Said Benton. "Jamie's already let him know, and he's starting up Bessie."

"No time to waste then." Said Jon. "I'll get a lab kit ready, and... Should I call Tara?"

"We'll wait." Said the Chief. "She'll order a team, and the last thing we need is a bunch of high-and-mighty officers from Gallifrey snooping around. They may be 'professionals', but they still managed to botch the Traken case."

"Good." Said Jon, sprinting off, grabbing a kit, and running back. "I don't care much for Captain Maxwell."

"I don't think anyone in town cares much for Maxwell." Said the Chief as he ran to the yellow-streaked squad car affectionately dubbed 'Bessie' by Jon. "Benton, stay here and man the phone, in case we get any other reports."

"Yes sir!" Said Benton as they drove off.

—•—•—

"Can you describe your attacker?" Asked the Chief.

"He was rather tall." Said William. "And he had black eyes. But there was something... Peculiar about them."

"Peculiar?"

"They seemed almost... Flat. Soulless." William nodded.

"Can you tell me anything else?" Asked the Chief.

"No, he, he was wearing a mask." Said William.

"Hm." Said the Chief, turning off his dictaphone.

"Chief!" Said Captain Yates, peeking out of the dining room. "Jon says he may've found something!"

The Chief ran into the dining room, which was a shambles. Plates were on the floor, along with pieces of fried chicken. Jon, clad in a protective outfit, studied something on the ground.

"What is it Jon?" Asked the Chief.

"A bit of fiber." Said Jon. "From a very nice bit of cloth. I'd say our criminal is a very fine dresser indeed."

"That narrows it down to about four people I can name." Said Jamie. "There's Vislor Turlough, Roger Masters, Anthony Tremas-" Everyone shuddered, but Jon shook his head.

"No." He said. "Anthony has blue eyes. I profiled him during the Traken case, remember?" The Chief nodded.

"Right." Said Jamie. "And then the fourth person is... um." He glanced nervously at Jon's coat.

"Blue eyes again." Said Jon. "Though I have to admire that you thought of me. Everyone's a suspect in this sort of thing."

"Thanks. Then again, whoever could be from out of town." Jamie smiled nervously as Jon stood up.

"Well." Said Jon. "I suppose we should start searching."

"We can't do much of anything without a warrant." Reminded the Chief.

"Of what?" Asked Jon, pulling off the sterile suit. "We'll just be checking around."

The Chief nodded. "Alright." He said. "Captain Yates, you and Officer McCrimmon go and check on young Mr. Turlough. Jon and I will go and visit Mr. Masters." He turned to Clara and William. "As for you two, I would appreciate it if you'd stay at Ms. Oswald's home for the time being. We'll call you if we find anything."

"I suppose." Said William, nodding slowly. Clara patted him on the back.

"I'll be alright." She said.

"Will it, hm?" He asked. Clara had no answer.

—•—•—

Captain Yates knocked on the door to Turlough's house. It was a small place, granted on some sort of discount from the landlord, and Turlough somehow managed to make ends meet. How? That was one of the questions that the answer to might never be uncovered. The door opened and a tuft of ginger hair came out, followed by the rest of his head.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Sorry to bother you Mr. Turlough." Said Captain Yates. "But something's happened."

"What is it?" Turlough asked, his annoyance quickly overrun by worry.

"Susan Foreman's been kidnapped." Said Captain Yates. "And since you have class with her, we were wondering if you might have any clues as to who would do it. Anything at all?"

"No, no, nothing!" Said Turlough. "I hope you find her." He said, green eyes brimming with sincerity.

"So do I." Captain Yates tipped his hat and walked back to the car.

"Ya' think it was him?" Asked Jamie.

"Nope." Said Yates, strapping himself in. "Green eyes."

"You think it's Mr. Masters, then?" Asked Jamie.

"Do you?"

Jamie nodded as Yates started up the car.

"So do I. C'mon. They might need some help."

They drove over to Mr. Masters's house. When they pulled up next to Bessie, something caught Jamie's eye.

"Captain, the front door's open." He said, pointing at the coal-black door dangling listlessly in the wind. Captain Yates got out of the car, closing the door quietly. Jamie did the same, and together they approached the house, easing in through the door. They moved forwards, searching the house until they heard voices.

"Let her go right now!" Said the voice of Jon.

"Giving the orders?" Asked Roger. "Amusing, considering the fact that I'm holding the gun in this situation." Someone whimpered, and Roger sighed. "For the thousandth time, SHUT UP!"

"What's your aim in all this?" Asked the Chief. "Ransom? You and I both know that the Foremen aren't rich. You might be able to extort a few thousand quid, but nothing extravagant."

"A different kind of a ransom." Said Roger. "Susan's dear father has certain information that would be best to not be revealed."

"Blackmail!" Jon exclaimed and Jamie whispered. Yates nodded and gestured ahead.

"At it's basest, yes." Said Roger. "Not for my sake, of course. I have an... Employer, you might say."

"Who?" Asked Jon.

"Do you really think I'd tell you that?" Laughed Roger.

"I think you've said enough." Said Captain Yates. "Hands in the air Masters." He and Jamie both pointed their guns at him, but to their chagrin Roger was holding a distraught Susan, gun pointed at her head.

"Put the gun down." Ordered Yates.

"And I say the same to you." Said Masters. "Put your guns down now, or I'll shoot her."

"Then what happens to your blackmail?" Asked Jamie. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Asked Masters, moving the gun closer to Susan's head. All the sudden, she grabbed at the gun and it shot off, hitting him in the knee. He shouted something and let go of Susan, who ran toward Jon. Jon hugged her as the Chief stepped forward.

"Not now." He said, kicking the gun away.

—•—•—

"Susan did what?" Asked Donna, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"It was an accident, yes, but she did it anyway." Said Yates.

"Susan?" Asked David. "William Foreman's granddaughter? That Susan? Shot Roger Masters?"

"Saw it with me own eyes." Said Jamie. "Otherwise I wouldn't believe it either."

It was the next day at the Rose and Crown, and Yates, Jamie, and Jon were fielding question after question about the case.

"Well, he either shot himself or Susan did." Said Martha. She was the town doctor, and had pulled the bullet out last night. "The angle said that the shooter was really close to him. Either himself or..." She let her voice trail off.

"I'm just glad she's safe." Said Jon. "Nasty business."

"I wonder..." Said Jack after a bit of silence. "Who do you think it was that wanted Susan to be kidnapped? Because her dad had some dirt on him?"

"I don't know, (thank you Clara)," said Jon, taking a sip of his new drink, "but I desperately hope I never meet the man."

**Bloody: Yeah... You wish... The chapter was inspired in pert by Elionu's request!**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW and is sorry that tis is a little late.**

**Bloody: I am. Au Revoir, my lovely reviewers! Bye! :D**


	11. The Tardis Flu

"Jack? Hello, I'b calling id sick."

"Geez Clara, you sound awful!" Said Jack.

"You don'd sound so great yourself." Clara said, managing to chuckle despite how awful she felt.

"I sound a whole lot better than you do." Said Jack, sniffling a bit. "I guess it's the Tardis Flu."

"We've got an overly busy police departmend and a flu? Jiminy Christmas..."

"Well, it's not really the Tardis flu, we just call it that 'cause it hits Tardis every year, like clockwork. Tom swears up and down it's 'the Curse of the Snog Box'."

"Really?"

"As I live and breathe... Though he'd jump at the opportunity if Sarah Jane invited him inside."

"How are you able to cope?" Asked Clara, laughing and sighing as she flopped back into her bed.

"I have a theory-"

"Was it by any chance developed over a few glasses of gin?"

"Yeah, but that's beside the point. If you use the box, you become immune. Should've taken me up on that offer, I guess."

"You're despicable."

"Yup. I should go and get ready for the help-less night ahead of me. At least it'll be slow."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Clara hung up and put her phone on the nightstand, weighing the pros and cons of getting up and making tea. They balanced each other out, but Clara wanted to do something physical, so she dragged herself out of bed and made the stupid cup of tea, finishing off the Jammie Dodgers. It wasn't the most nutritious breakfast in the world, but Clara felt too crummy to care. After her tea, she downed a dose of cold medicine and went back to bed, hoping as the drowsiness kicked in that no-one was having as bad a time as she was.

—•—•—

Adric felt awful. He buried his face in his pillow and moaned.

"Flu, huh?" Asked Varsh, walking past his room on the way to the bathroom. Adric was about to reply, but an upcoming wave of bile made him dive for the trash can, lined with grocery bags for waterproofing. Varsh looked in and swore.

"Better brush your teeth." He finally said, walking back to his room. "Otherwise your girlfriend won't kiss you when you go back to school."

"Nyssa's not my girlfriend!" Adric protested, though weakly.

"You want her to be!" Varsh replied. "Dad! Adric's sick!"

"Ugh..." Adric muttered, getting up and wobbling over to the bathroom. He could hear their father calling the school to tell them he'd be sick, and thought to himself; 'I hope Nyssa's doing better.'

—•—•—

Nyssa spit a last bit of bile into the toilet and flushed it, staring at the remains of last night's dinner going down.

"Peter!" She shouted as best she could. "I think I'm-" she was interrupted by another wave of puke and leaned over the toilet. Dang it, what was left, lunch?

"Nyssa?" Peter knocked on the door as Nyssa spit again.

"Sick." She said.

"I'll let them know." He said. "Think you can handle it?"

"You go on ahead." Said Nyssa. "I'll be fine... Unless it's actually the plague."

Peter chuckled at her joke, then stopped. "Call me if it gets too bad." He said. "I'll drive you over to the clinic."

"I will." Said Nyssa. "Thanks Peter."

—•—•—

Ms. Shaw sighed as she hung up. Another pupil sick. The flu spread so quickly that she'd sometimes have to close the school. She had substitutes, but if half the faculty was sick they wouldn't cut it. As Ms. Impana, head of the schools in Gallifrey would so happily remind her, 'Tardis Public School is simply not cut out for handling epidemics.'

"Ms. Shaw?" Asked Peter, poking his head in. "Nyssa's sick, so you might as well put her down too." Liz groaned and rested her head on her desk. Maybe she should've become a scientist like her mother'd said.

"Coping?" Asked Peter. "Don't worry, it'll be over before you know it."

"I hope so." Muttered Liz, hoping the bar would be open tonight. She could use a few drinks, and maybe Alistair would be there... Ah well, back to work.

—•—•—

Sarah Jane flipped the pillow and sighed, enjoying the cool touch.

"Sarah!" Shouted Luke. "I have to go to school!"

"I'm sick." Muttered Sarah. "You can call in sick."

"That wouldn't be right!"

"Then walk." Said Sarah.

"Is Mr. Tom in your bedroom?"

"What?" Asked Sarah, then shot up out of bed, charging into the living room. "LUKE! OUT! NOW!"

"Sorry!" Yelped Luke, grabbing his backpack and charging out the front door. "Bye!"

Sarah Jane sighed and returned to her bed, pulling up the covers and sneaking a peek at the other side of the bed. Tom in her bedroom. If only.

**Bloody: Hello peoples. In light of my recent cold, I decided to create the Tardis Flu so that the characters could squirm a bit. However, since I like Sarah Jane, I gave her a light case and a bit of fluff. Yes, I ship 4xSarah Jane. It used to be my OTP, until I discovered something else that totally stole my heart.**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW, and her OTP is 5xTegan.**

**Bloody: And there's gonna be a chapter coming up featuring it. ;) Au Revoir! **


	12. Apple Pie

It was another Friday evening in the town of Tardis, when the doorbell rang at the Davids' residence. Peter opened the door to find Tegan standing there, a pie dish in hand.

"Hello Tegan." he said. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Aunt Vanessa wanted me to give you this." she said, thrusting the pie dish forwards. Peter took it and peeked at it.

"Apple pie?" he asked. "You like this don't you?"

"It's alright." she said, shrugging, but keeping her eyes on the dish at the same time.

"Alright? I've seen you eat it!" Peter chuckled. "You love it!" Tegan ducked her head and Peter held the door open. "Come on in." he said.

"I couldn't!" exclaimed Tegan, holding out her hands in protest.

"I insist." entreated Peter, shifting the pie dish to nestle in the crook of one arm and wiggling the fingers of his outstretched hand. Tegan smiled and took the hand, Peter kissing it lightly as they walked inside. Tegan smiled, her cheeks turning slightly pinker as they sat down at the table. It was almost surreal. Then Peter realized that he hadn't brought out any plates or utensils and jumped out of his chair, shattering the aura.

"Sorry about that." he mumbled, filling two glasses with milk. Tegan gladly accepted hers, smiling and thanking him, and took a sip as Peter set her slice of pie on the table.

"It's alright." she said. "Where's Nyssa?"

"Slumber party at the Pallisters'." he said, taking a forkful of his pie and popping it into his mouth. His eyes widened and a silly schoolboy grin snuck across his face. "This is delicious!"

"Aunt Vanessa's special recipe." said Tegan, smiling at the giddy expression on his face.

"My compliments." he said, raising his glass of milk. "To her recipe."

"To her recipe." echoed Tegan, tapping her glass against his with a soft clink.

They continued eating and making light conversation until the end of Tegan's second slice and Peter's third, at which point they became pleasantly stuffed. Tegan put plastic wrap over the remains of the pie, then helped Peter clean the dishes, despite his protests.

"Rabbits!" she said, scrubbing the residue off of one of the plates. "I brought the pie, the least I could do is help clean up!"

"You can be so argumentative sometimes." Peter said, drying off the now-clean glasses.

"So can you." Tegan said, smiling a little bit as they brushed up against one another.

"Argumentative? Me?"

"Yes you!" Tegan laughed. "Sometimes you just can't seem to keep quiet!"

"Oh? Well neither can you."

"Humph! Come up with your own insults!"

"Well you can't!" said Peter, turning to face her as they finished cleaning up. "It's an impossibility for you to keep silent for for than a minute!"

"Try and quiet me then!" Tegan said, cocking an eyebrow and putting her hands on her hips.

"Maybe I will." said Peter, leaning in closer. Tegan's breath caught in her throat. Peter's face was inches away from hers, his breath smelling like apple cider. After a few seconds, he leaned in and put his head to the side of hers, his breath tickling her ear. "I told you so." he whispered, then pulled away, smiling victoriously.

"Humph." said Tegan, crossing her arms. "That could've been better."

"Huh?" asked Peter, clearly confused.

"Well, sure, it worked." said Tegan, slowly moving closer to him. "But that's not how I'd have gone about it."

"And how would you have done it?" asked Peter, face softening, but still maintaining the cute crinkling of his brow.

"If I were you?" asked Tegan, standing on her toes so she could come to eye level with him. "I'd have done it like this." Then the last few inches between them were forgotten as Tegan moved forwards and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his as she concentrated all her energy on snogging him silly. Peter tensed with shock for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair as he returned the kiss as passionately as she had kissed him.

"You're right." Peter mumbled as they came up for air. "This is better." Tegan beamed as he pulled her in for another kiss.

Tegan felt hot and cold, light and heavy, dizzy and tingly, all at once. She almost wished she didn't have to breathe so she could keep on like this forever, but then she wouldn't be able to smell Peter's scent, warm and comforting, with the crisp smell of celery mixed in, the apple pie, and something unplaceable, but so, so inviting. She tilted her head and pushed a little bit forwards, a little bit closer to him.

"You're good." she gasped out as they stumbled out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Really good."

"Mmm?" he muttered. "Thanks."

"Welcome." she said, pulling him down onto the couch next to her and continuing the snog fest.

After what seemed the longest time, they broke apart, panting.

"Heh." Tegan said, resting her head against Peter's chest, arms still dangling off his shoulders. "You're a very good kisser."

"So are you." murmured Peter, pulling her up a little bit onto his chest and nuzzling into her hair. Tegan flipped over onto her stomach, (and his), and grinned up at him.

"I guess I'll have to bring stuff over more often." she said as she pulled her arms off his shoulders and wrapped them around his chest.

"Definitely." he agreed, stroking her hair. She smiled at him, then started planting soft little kisses on his cheek, which was flushed from all the excitement, and he broke into a big, silly, lopsided grin that was as infectious as it was cute, and she just couldn't help kissing him (on the lips) again… and again… and again. And he always kissed her back, which she enjoyed immensely.

Eventually they leaned against each other, smiling and looking into the other's eyes.

"Aunt Vanessa will be wondering what's taking so long." Tegan sadly said, looking at the clock.

"We wouldn't want to arouse meaningless suspicions." said Peter, just as sullenly.

"No meaningless suspicions." echoed Tegan. They exchanged a glance, then Tegan sighed. "Night Peter." She said, kissing him on the forehead.

"Good night Tegan." he said, kissing her on the cheek. He helped her up and escorted her to the door. Aunt Vanessa's house was right across the street, so there was no real need for Peter to escort Tegan over. The short distance did nothing to stop Peter from watching Tegan cross the street, however, and even though Aunt Vanessa pestered her about it for the week afterwards, Tegan was adamant about making the raisin bread for them, and delivering it to Peter while Nyssa was studying with Adric at his house.

She took three hours.

**BloodLily: Okay. So, I was going to wait until I got four reviews to post this chapter, but I'm sick of waiting and since the Multiplayer update of Terraria came out today, I'll be nice and post this. Unicorn?**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own DW, and SEVENTEEN DAYS UNTIL THE 23RD, CAN I GET A WHAT-WHAT?!**

**Bloody: OH YEAH! X3**


	13. Trepidations

Adric sat cross legged on the floor, holding his head in his hands.

"Are you trying meditation or something?" asked Varsh, peeking into Adric's room as he passed by.

"Can I ask your advice on something?" Adric asked.

"What about?"

"Girls." Adric said, looking up. "How do you ask a girl out?"

"This is about your girlfriend isn't it?" Varsh asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat at a comedy club. "Nyssa!"

"Wh- No!" shouted Adric.

"You want to ask her to the fall dance!" Varsh shouted.

"… Yes." Adric admitted, dropping his head.

"About time." Varsh said.

"Whenever I try to bring the subject up I freeze." moaned Adric.

"Nyssa's a looker, right?" asked Varsh.

"She's gorgeous." said Adric, a slightly dreamy look crossing his face. "Not to mention intelligent."

"Then if you don't ask her soon," Varsh leaned down to Adric's level, "someone else will." Adric's eyes widened as Varsh continued. "Who knows how many guys have asked her already? Plus, since she's Mr. Davids's adoptive daughter, she might get asked out for 'extra credit'."

"I would've thought they'd stay away because of that." Adric squeaked.

"True." muttered Varsh. "But my point is this." He pulled out a mobile phone and tossed it to Adric. "If you don't make your move soon, then you'll lose her. So call her, now."

Steeled by Varsh's pep talk, Adric dialed in Nyssa's number and held the mobile up to his ear.

"Hello?" asked Nyssa's voice.

"Hi, um, it's me, Adric." Adric said, mouth suddenly going dry.

"Hi Adric!" said Nyssa, sounding distinctly happier.

"Um, I was wondering… wondering… I was wondering if you'd-"

"Yes?"

"Like to hang out after school tomorrow!" Adric said. Varsh slapped a hand over his eyes and grimaced.

"I- I'd love to!" Nyssa said, sounding disappointed for a second. "I have to go, bye!"

"Bye." echoed Adric, hanging up and flopping down onto the floor.

"You. Are. Pathetic." Varsh muttered.

"I know…"

—•—•—

"I was so sure he'd manage it this time!" moaned Nyssa.

"Lost 'is nerve at the last second." lamented Dodo. "Dreadful."

"He's got to get his act together sometime!" said Vicki. "Otherwise you might have to go with that block guy!"

"Brock." corrected Susan.

"Could someone explain this to me?" asked Zoe. "What's going on?"

"We're bewailing Adric Alzarian's lack of backbone." said Vicki. "He can't work up the courage to ask Nyssa to the Fall Dance."

"Adric Alzarian?" asked Zoe. "Didn't you try to smash his face in with a maths book once?"

"He's changed." said Nyssa. "How do you know about that?"

"Because you used my maths book!" Zoe exclaimed.

"…I did, didn't I?" Nyssa asked, laughing. "Oh, what should I do?"

"You could ask him out." suggested Zoe. "It is the twenty-first century after all."

"I'm hoping it won't have to come to that." said Nyssa.

"Block at twelve o' clock!" Dodo hissed. Nyssa turned around to see a rather chiseled seventeen-year-old approaching her.

"Shoot." she muttered.

"Hey Traken." said Brock. "I was wondering if you'd changed your mind about coming to the dance with me."

"For the fifth time," said Nyssa, gritting her teeth, "no!"

"Oh come on!" yelled Brock, earning a nasty look from the librarian. "What's your problem Traken!?"

"The simple fact that you can't seem to remember my first name, for starters." Nyssa said coldly. "The first time you asked, I was pleasantly surprised, but no means NO!"

"Are you waiting for someone to ask you out?" snorted Brock. "Why bother? You can't get much better than me, babe."

"Nyssa?" asked Adric, standing in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?"

"No." said Nyssa. "I was just waiting for you." She walked over towards him, but Brock stopped her.

"Don't tell me you're hoping for him!" he snorted. "That geek! What does he have that I don't!"

"I'd tell you, but then I'd be here all day." Nyssa pushed past him and took Adric's hand, leading him out the door.

"Are you alright?" Adric asked.

"He's just annoying." Nyssa sighed. "He keeps asking me to the dance."

"Really?" squeaked Adric.

"And this is the fifth time I've turned him down." Nyssa said.

"Wh-why?" asked Adric.

"Because he's probably the last person I'd go with!" Nyssa sighed. "He's an idiot. The only reason he's asking me is because I'm pretty and he's failing in English and needs 'extra credit'." She made air quotes with her fingers and Adric reflected on how similar this was to his conversation with Varsh.

"He's an idiot if he thinks you're pretty."

The words slipped out of Adric's mouth, and at the sight of Nyssa's dismayed expression he hurriedly added:

"Look at you, you're beautiful!" he said. "I mean, you've got eyes that look like gemstones, and your hair is soft, and feathery, and you've got a smile that could power London for a week, it's so bright, and you're intelligent, and funny, and…" His cheeks went warm and he stared pointedly at the ground. "And I was wondering if- if- ifyou'dliketogotothefalldancewithme." The words came out in a rush, but Adric felt as though some great weight had been lifted off his chest.

"What?" asked Nyssa.

"Would you please go to the Fall Dance with me?" Adric repeated, more sure of himself this time. Nyssa cupped her hand on his chin and slowly brought his head up. She was smiling, her cheeks rosy with exhilaration.

"I'd love to." she whispered. Then she leaned forwards and kissed him. Adric, after a brief moment of shock, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, mental fireworks going off. He'd done it! He'd finally done it! And she'd said yes!

Someone cleared her throat and their heads snapped around to Emma Tanaka, one of their classmates, who was standing in the doorway of a nearby classroom.

"About time!" she said, shaking her head and walking up the hall to the library. Adric and Nyssa stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. When the laughter died down, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces. Then Adric offered his hand, Nyssa took it, and they walked out of the school, each a whole lot happier.

**Bloody: Ahh… the beauty of Nysric… :3**

**Unicorn Plushie: Bloody doesn't own Doctor Who, but won't complain if you guys start a petition saying otherwise… Also, the review requirement has been raised to 5 reviews. This is because Bloody is working on a new super-secret project.**

**Bloody: I'll give you guys a little hint as to what it is. Google 'Fairy Tail'. ;) Ta!**


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